What Night Unveils
by francyfifty
Summary: In the middle of the night Bellamy can't rest, and feels the sudden need to go and see Clarke. Things take a turn he would have never seen coming.
1. Chapter 1

_This is something that wouldn't leave me alone, because I'm utterly in love with Bellarke and I needed them to stop hurting for a while. It doesn't take place in a specific moment of the show, but if you want some guidelines, Clarke has not been taken by Grounders and Bellamy has not slept with Raven._

_Please let me now if you like it! Any comment, positive or negative or confused or whatever, is very welcome. Don't hold back! ;)_

With a frustrated growl, Bellamy gave up on sleep once and for all. He had spent hours twisting in his bed, worries never leaving him to rest and nearly driving him crazy. His skin was burning up despite the temperature drop since the sun had set, his mind overcome - eyes closed or not - by a blur of confused and painful flashes. Gounders' painted faces, three hundred twenty bodies lighting up the sky (_my fault, all my fault_), Charlotte's cries, Jaha's dark and thick blood, Murphy hanged and suffocating, his sister's terrified look while being taken away from him that goddamned day… - past and present melted and spun in a furious storm with no light at the end.

Bellamy never asked for it. He didn't want all those responsibilities, such a huge weight on his shoulders. He wasn't that strong. He tried to not let anybody down, to be the leader they believed him, but he knew the truth. He had just tried to protect Octavia and himself, because no one else would have. No one cared. No one…

Golden hair and sky blue eyes emerged from his whirlpool of thoughts. _She does care,_ said a tiny voice hidden somewhere inside of him. Clarke cared. Bellamy couldn't on his life comprehend why, why someone as pure and bright as she was should give a damn about a lost boy with a corrupted soul like he felt he was; but she did.

Suddenly he was overwhelmed by a burning need to see her, to just see her and make sure she was actually there, that he hadn't imagined her. He was well aware of how irrational that fear was, because _of course she's real, _but he couldn't help it even if he tried.

His body almost moving on its own will, he rose quietly and stepped out in the night. Everything was oddly silent and the only noises came from the leaves of the woods' trees and the wind against the wall they had built. Bellamy walked past what was left of the previous nights' bonfires, paying attention not to make a sound that could wake some of the guys sleeping near, and in a couple of minutes he found himself in front of Clarke's place.

Standing there, a flood of afterthoughts suddenly threatened to win over his resolution: what if she was asleep? How would she react, waking up with him there staring at her? And what if she was awake and he burst in without a real reason to?

Bellamy shook his head vigorously, well aware that he had to get on with it now or he would never have the guts to. It wasn't a big deal after all, was it? Just a matter of seconds, really, and then he would just go back and maybe be even able to doze off a little.

He lifted the opening and slid into the small room, his heart beating more quickly than he would have admitted out loud. The moonlight couldn't pass through the thick material of the tent and it took him a while to adjust his sight to the pitch dark; little by little he started to distinguish Clarke's figure lying down on the ground. She was sleeping.

A part of him pushed to leave and forget about the whole thing, but something just didn't feel right. He narrowed his eyes as he got closer to her, noticing how she trembled and moved in her sleep. Bellamy suddenly realized she was having a nightmare. Not really thinking it through he knelt beside her and put a hand on her shoulder, trying to ease her, and when she relaxed under his fingers Bellamy let go a faint relieved breath that he hadn't been aware of holding in.

He was about to stand up and go back to his tent when Clarke turned to him and subconsciously threw an arm around his waist, making him loose his balance and fall sprawled next to her. At the noise the girl opened half an eye and Bellamy froze, staring at her, terrified of what she could think or say.

The girl peered at him for a few seconds, then murmured drowsily "Is it still night?"

Bellamy shifted his head slightly to have a better look at her, tempted to not answer and to pretend he wasn't there. _Don't be an idiot_, thought the most rational part of him. _You put yourself in this situation, you deal with the consequences_.

"Uhm, yes, it is" he answered quietly.

Clarke closed her eyes again as a smile blossomed on her tired face. And then Bellamy almost fainted of shock when she hugged him more tightly and snuggled closer. "Good" he heard her mumble, and without even the time for him to realize her intentions, she cupped his face and kissed him slowly.

A white light exploded behind his shut eyes and suddenly his blood was on fire. His skin tickled everywhere, his mind went on overload trying to grasp what this meant. As her lips continued to move against his and deepened the kiss Bellamy vaguely took notice of how his body was reacting, some parts more than others… _Oh god_ he thought, coming abruptly back to reality. In that very moment Clarke let go of him and buried her face in his neck, humming content.

He swallowed, gathering some courage. "Clarke…"

"Mmmmwhat" she muttered against his skin, her fingers playing with his hair.

Bellamy stared at the roof of the tent and tried to calm the furious beating of his treacherous heart. "What was that?" he managed to utter, and he would have slapped himself for how his voice sounded shaken.

Clarke swatted lightly on his chest. "Don't be a bore, what does it matter anyway?"

That answer startled him. He glanced down at her to read her expression, but only saw a crown of blonde hair. "Well, it does to ME."

He felt her mouth curl into a smile, sending a shiver run down his spine. "Why?" she asked sleepily. " -'s just a dream".

Bellamy was about to reply, when a bell ringed in his head. Did she just…? _Oh_. _OH_.

One of her legs drifted in between his and her hand started to follow the lines of his abs, making him tense.

"You feel more real this time" she whispered against the curve between his neck and shoulder.

… _This time?!_

Clarke giggled as if the two of them were privy to a secret, still not opening her eyes. "And we are dressed, for once."

"FUCK"he swore under his breath, desperate not to linger on the meaning behind those words while in such a compromising position, with Clarke half sprawled on him. He definitely needed to go out of that tent while he could still maintain the few drops of self-control he still had left. Bellamy raised a hand and removed the golden tresses that covered her face, noticing how beautiful she was, how young and peaceful, when she had no worries nor expectations to live up to.

"Clarke" he said, trying to loosen her grip around his waist. No answer came. "Clarke" he repeated, this time a little more firmly.

The girl nuzzled his jaw tenderly like it was an everyday habit for them. His heart warmed in a way he couldn't describe, and he didn't fight the smile which pulled at his lips when she moved a little closer to him, if that was even possible. Their figures molded into each other perfectly, and Bellamy let his instinct guide him as he stopped fighting against her arms and embraced her back.

Clarke smiled, still lost in what she supposed was her dream, and keeping her lids sealed she moved her head to rest on his chest with a happy sigh.

"You smell so good" she murmured, already drifting off again, making Bellamy's heart skip a beat. "It's not fair how good you always smell".

Bellamy chuckled quietly at the thought of the whole situation and what Clarke would do if she truly woke up right then. He realized he had been staring at her, and that his hand had been in her hair since the moment he moved it from her face; her bright locks were soft although unruly around his fingers, tickling his chin and falling over his shoulder.

He caressed her cheek as gently as he could, calloused skin against pure silk. The skin of a princess. Their brave Princess.

_My brave Princess,_ he dared thinking. His strong, just, intrepid, brilliant, beautiful Clarke. Clarke who believed in him, trusted him, who wasn't afraid to fight him, to stand up with him, or protect him (_no one had ever done that_ _– no one_).

And maybe, this gorgeous girl could even – for some blessed reason - have feelings for him.

Bellamy felt weightless, gleaming, and for once in what appeared to be an entire lifetime, hopeful. Before he was aware of it his face opened in a wide smile that didn't seem to be going away any time soon. He closed his eyes and listened to the sound of Clarke's breath, hugging her a little more tightly.

He decided he wasn't leaving yet. Not yet. He wanted to just lay there by her side and hold her for a while. Clarke hummed something as her small hand searched for one of his and intertwined their fingers together.

Yes. That smile was definitely staying. And so was he.


	2. Chapter 2

_Here we go! The second chapter is longer than the first one, with a lot of heart-warming stuff and a little bit of angst to make it tastier ;) This is "the day after" in Clarke's POV. If I started writing the whole story because I needed them to be happy for a while, now I CRAVE it. Damn season finale._

_Please, do let me know if you like it, if you don't, what you wish was different and what I got right. I'm ready!_

Clarke sank her face in the arms with a groan, trying to convince herself it wasn't time to get up yet. She didn't want to surrender so quickly. Blonde hair fell over closed lids, but couldn't manage to shield her from the sunlight that sneaked under the tent and enveloped the surroundings.

What made her give up the fight was the tingling at the back of her neck, which seemed to suggest there was something she really ought to recall. She squinted her eyes against the brightness and instinctively touched the side of the bed next to her.

A second later lucidity ploughed through her drowsiness and she lifted the head to stare at her hand. _What the hell am I doing? _Clarke thought to herself, a lame attempt to dismiss the slight disappointment of not finding anyone there. _Of course there's no one, you fool. Who did you expe-_

A flash of dark curls crossed her mind, and a little smile relaxed the tight line of her lips and widened into a grin. Clarke stretched out her whole body with a deep satisfied hum: she had dreamed about him again. That's why for a second she had presumed he would be sprawled against her.

It had been different than the other times. Clarke giggled as she remembered her previous dreams regarding Bellamy: how his lean muscles tensed under her fingers, how his hot breath tickled her ear, how his weight pinned her down in such a delicious way, how they moved together like they had been doing it all their lives…

She could feel a broad blush creep up into her cheeks, and yet she didn't care. Everyone in the camp considered her to be a cold, rational and self-disciplined person, but she wasn't DEAD, damn it. Her sight worked wonderfully and she was a red-blooded girl after all. Bellamy was attractive as hell, it would be ridiculous to deny it to herself.

Herself. That was the key word. Clarke felt her heart stop as she wondered what would happen if her unspoken desires became less than strictly secretive; she wouldn't hear the end of it. Bellamy would tease mercilessly every single second of the day. Forever.

She could picture his mocking smirk while his self-esteem increased till the edge of human tolerance. _No, thank you very much. _Though he was cute when he smiled… beautiful, not cute. With his dimples, and his unruly hair, and those damn freckles, and the way his eyes twinkled in the rare occasions when he let go of that tough-leader mask of his.

There were times in which small fractures cracked his armor, mostly with Octavia, which showed he could be tender. And fun, also. He knew how to steal a brief laugh from Clarke when nobody else was able to. Maybe behind that unwavering demeanor he really care-

Clarke suddenly realized where her thoughts were leading and sat up, her spine straight.

_Damn it. Damn it! No. NOT tender. NOT fun. NOT beautiful. Just… sexy. Yeah, sexy. That's all. Sexy is fine. Sexy is safe._

Clarke shook her head to clear it, and stood with a sigh. The sun was high enough for her to be needed in the camp. When she changed in clean clothes a remote part of her registered a familiar and yet somehow out-of-place scent all around her, but she stored the fact as meaningless in a small and hidden corner of her mind. Before she was out of the tent, certain images had brought the grin back on her face.

In her haste to get up and start the day, she failed to notice that the part of the bed where she hadn't been lying on was still warm.

—

Now he was REALLY getting on her nerves.

During the whole day Bellamy had done nothing but glance at her in the distance, only to look away when caught, then proceed to avoid her in any way and with any pretext he could if she tried to approach him.

Clarke was not stupid. That night her imagination had offered her less heated, gentler scenes between the two of them, but despite how good – _SO GOOD_ – it had felt to be held by him, she knew well that reality was different. No matter what her dreams claimed, she wasn't in need of a one night stand, and Bellamy wasn't interested neither in her nor clearly in a relationship whatsoever. Question ended.

_What question? What relationship?!_ She scolded herself. _As if I wanted it. With Bellamy chaos-my-old-friend Blake, no less! Damn it, too much sun makes me platter._

No, Clarke was not stupid. But she did feel stupid. Because it shouldn't hurt. It shouldn't hurt that he was suddenly back to keeping her at arm's length and acting as if she was just a nuisance. That he wouldn't meet her eyes when she attempted to talk to him for whatever reason. That he suffered through an exchange of just a few words before fleeing from her. And it was driving her crazy not knowing what on Earth she had done to deserve this treatment.

It was late afternoon when Clarke exited Monty's tent with a small supply of moonshine that she used to sterilize hands and tools. She was returning to the medical bay when Mr. Cordiality himself came out from around a corner and crashed into her.

"Hey, easy there, Princess!" he joked with a smirk, his hands rising on their own accord to steady her and grab the flasks. It was like nothing had happened, like she had made his hostility up all the day though.

Then his look lowered to her lips for just a fraction of a second, and his expression turned from playful to on edge. Bellamy let her go as if her skin burned, and before she had the time to articulate a single word he had given her a stiff nod and was already walking away.

_That's enough ,_ Clarke muttered while her blood began coursing in her veins at a doubled speed.

Without thinking about it she sprinted toward him, grabbed one of his sleeves and hauled him in a secluded clearing apart from tents and people.

"Clarke, what the hell-"

"Shut up" she cut, half throwing the moonshine on the ground. "Explain."

Bellamy's eyes flickered to her mouth again before fixing stubbornly on a point over her shoulder, but it was enough to send a shiver down her spine.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." he replied.

Clarke snorted. "Please. Don't even start. What is it? What did I do to piss you off like this?"

"Nothing."

"Your 'nothing' has been stressing me out the whole day."

Bellamy glanced at her with his best sneer, but it seemed strained. "Didn't know I could affect you so much, Princess."

_Nice try, buddy. _"Bellamy."

"Clarke."

"Talk to me." She insisted, taking a step closer to him. Bellamy flinched, but kept himself from moving.

"There's nothing to talk about, ok? Nothing. Stop asking. Everything's fine!"

"It's not!" she snarled, exasperated.

"Well, maybe it isn't about you!" His voice's volume was beginning to rise. "Maybe I'm just in a bad mood! Aren't you damn self-centered?!"

His attempt to divert her attention from her questions by making her angry was so obvious that Clarke wanted to laugh. "We both know you're lying! You behaved normally among the others, so it must have something to do with me" she went on, coming closer. "I'm not saying I want to be your damn best friend or mo…" she started to say, biting firmly on her own tongue before finishing the sentence.

Bellamy's gaze quivered and his eyes drew to her lips once again. The intensity of his look gave her goose bumps. _What the hell is going on?_

This time though he wasn't fast enough, and when he realized she had noticed his jaw clenched so hard that Clarke nearly felt his pain herself. "Let it be, Princess" he warned her with a tone so taut that it threatened to snap any second.

He turned his back to her, as to make a point, and moved in the tents' direction again. Clarke felt so frustrated that she wanted to punch him with all the strength she had. "Yes! Right! Run away, 'Brave Leader'!"

That managed to stop him in his tracks, but he didn't spin around or move another muscle."Why don't you confront me instead, if it's 'nothing'? Uh? Why don't you stay?" she challenged, approaching him quickly. "Please, do clarify why you've been so creepy! Why did you avoid me? What are you so irked for? And why do you keep ogling my mouth?!"

Bellamy whirled so abruptly that he almost knocked Clarke down. "BECAUSE I CAN'T STOP THINKING ABOUT IT!" he shouted a few hairs away from her face, his eyes wide and desperate, the mask of toughness and self-control he usually wore completely shattered.

Clarke couldn't help staring back at him in shock, the furious beat of her heart deafening as his words echoed in her head. She knew Bellamy was pleading with her to understand something, but no matter at how fast her mind twisted to grab what it was, it felt like a part of her refused to acknowledge it.

"About what?" she murmured.

Bellamy let go a shaky breath, looking down and partially turning away from her. He run a hand through his unruly locks and stayed silent for a few seconds, as if considering how to answer the question.

Clarke tried again, hoping her voice would sound steadier. "What were you referring to?"

Bellamy gave her a thoughtful sideways gaze, then straightened up in all his height and nodded to himself so briefly that Clarke risked missing it.

"This is the thing, Princess" he said with a self-satisfied smile that was frantically struggling to disguise his tenseness. "I do believe last night you had a very realistic dream. Am I right?"

Clarke held his look sternly, attempting to wrap her mind around the meaning of his statement.

Memories of her dream flashed and overwhelmed her in a confused sequence: his steady and hot breath on her hair, his fingers stroking her skin, their lips perfectly melded, the heat of his body against hers. She felt her cheeks burn, but pretended she didn't notice it.

"And what would you know about that?" she asked, ignoring the voice inside her that whispered she was missing a piece of the puzzle. If only she could connect the dots…

The playfulness in Bellamy's eyes wavered for a moment, revealing a glimpse of… _is that embarrassment?! _ _Why should he be embarrassed? There's no way he could be privy to… Why am I even talking about this with him, damn it!_

Bellamy's hesitant voice interrupted her inner blabber. "Actually, I…well…it's not like…".

Clarke stared astonished as a light blush colored his ears and neck. _Bellamy Blake. Stuttering. And blushing. No way. This must be serious. _

Bellamy scratched behind his ear, and she could sense his inner fight to not break eye contact with her. He seemed to be gathering all the courage he was capable of, and stepped so close to her that she could have counted each and every freckle on his nose. "I know because you told me, Clarke".

In that instant his scent enveloped her like a warm blanket, something that made her feel safe, home. It made her recall the woods, and nature, and freedom.

And then she remembered exactly when she had smelled it before during the day.

In the morning.

In her tent.

In her BED.

The breath disappeared from her lungs as if there was no more air on the entire planet and her head started to spin. Fast. "No… wait. You… Are you trying to say… Bellamy, tell me I didn't…oh, no. No…"

He grasped her arms like he was afraid she would faint. A part of her considered it likely to happen any moment.

Clarke couldn't stop gazing at him in horror. She had hugged him. She had caressed his chest. She had snuggled against him, she had nosed his jaw, she had…

_OH. MY. GOD._

"I kissed you" she murmured, lowering her eyes to his full lips, the feeling of them moving against hers carved with fire in her memory.

A wide smile blossomed on Bellamy's face. "Indeed" he said. "And that, I couldn't forget if I tried, Princess".

His use of the nickname shook her out of the stupor she had fallen into, and she felt blind rage rising to take control over her. "YOU" she seethed pointing her index towards him. "Are you telling me you were in MY TENT? AT NIGHT?!"

Bellamy shrank slightly from her. "Clarke, let me-"

"YES, Bellamy Blake, do explain to me what the hell you thought you were doing!" she screamed, not caring anymore if someone heard her. "Did you want to – what? Wake me up and expect me to fall in your arms?"

"No! Clarke, I had no intention of-"

"Oh, RIGHT, you were just taking a walk in the middle of the night and decided to pay me a visit!" she barked at him, hitting his chest with all her strength and making him stagger a few steps away.

The anger that boiled inside of her tainted her words with poison like never before, and she sent out a bitter laugh. "I thought your gigantic ego preferred your girls to be consenting, but maybe it's easier if they're aslee-"

"ENOUGH!" he roared, grabbing her wrists in an almost painful way and harshly yanking her against him. "Don't you dare! I am many things, Princess, but may I'd be damned before I-" he spit out before managing to restrain himself. She could feel him shake from head to toe.

Bellamy diverted his eyes towards the ground, inhaled deeply, and when he brought them back to hers they were filled with sorrow and care, not a trace of wrath left. That look, the vulnerability it showed, that was what made her cool down.

"Clarke, I'm so sorry" he murmured. "It was just a hell of a night, all right? It was all coming back to me, everything I did, everything I wrecked, everyone I hurt, and I felt-". Bellamy stopped when his voice cracked a bit, but he recovered quickly. Clarke had never seen his eyes so dark and vibrant, and they pulled her to him more than his still firm clasp did. "I felt alone, damn it! I just wanted to… I don't know… see if maybe you were awake, or… It happened so fast, you hugged me in your sleep and I tried to get free, but it was so… it was nice, and…"

Her heart sank to the ground. He was telling the truth, she could see it. _I accused him of… He needed my help. He never relies on anyone, he never opens up, and the one time he bares his soul, to ME - damn it, I just HAD to go and fault him for…_

Tears blurred her sight and she moved by instinct, shoving her arms around his shoulders and hugging him tight. "I am the one who's sorry" she whispered.

"No, Clarke, I shouldn't have-"

"I remember." Bellamy froze against her. "I thought it was a dream, but I remember it. And you're right. It was nice." The last word resonated in her own mind and she let out a small laugh against his neck. "More than nice. It was… good. I mean, very good."

Clarke wished she could see his face while the words poured out of her, but she did feel his heart speed up fast under his chest. She was terrified of pushing him too hard, of scaring him, but when his hands came to rest at the small of her back she decided to trust her guts.

"It felt safe. I know it sounds stupid because we're in the middle of the friggin woods with Grounders in every shadow, but you were there and… it just… felt right."

Bellamy suddenly freed himself from her arms and she knew it. She had gone too far. She had misunderstood it all, she was making a fool of herself. Panic began to squeeze her lungs in a clasp of steel and Clarke couldn't get herself to stop talking, because having to bear the silence and the shame along with it was more than she could handle.

"God, I don't mean that we…You know, it's just that I feel so alone too sometimes, and you are always there! Well, not for me, for everyone, but- wait, not that you're just the easy choice and if there was anyone else it would be the same. I mean come on, you are… Nobody could ever…"

Bellamy put both his hands on the sides of her face, effectively stopping her rambling, and she realized he'd been staring at her with a gaze that could have moved a whole mountain with its strength. She could swear his skin was burning hers where they touched.

"Bellamy, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said those things to you before, I didn't mean any of it, I swear. I was so confused and embarrassed – I still am actually, and have no idea what you think of all this, but if it's too awkward to you…I mean what I did, the fact that I…that I kissed you-"

"You did." he stepped in, with a voice so hoarse that it took her aback.

"Yes, I know" Clarke agreed, swallowing hard. She closed her fingers into fists to make them stop shaking. "And although I wasn't completely conscious while doing it, I must admit that – and really, I'm not telling you because I expect you to reciproc-"

"Clarke."

She had never felt so dizzy in her life. "Yes?"

"Shut up."

Without any warning his hands tightened around her head, and he crushed their lips together with such a fervor that Clarke vaguely wondered how she was still standing. Her fists loosened, one grabbing the front of his shirt, the other finding the hair at the base of his neck. Their mouths moved frantically, nipping, sucking and clashing teeth, as it was never enough. His scent and his taste were hypnotizing, his lips firm and yet soft, his hands so big and strong while he held her and moved her and _damn it, it's not fair_. It was exactly like she remembered, only a thousand times better.

Bellamy's right arm encircled her waist and pulled her even closer, if possible, keeping her flush against him as his left hand cradled her head to deepen the kiss. Clarke didn't need to think twice. In the exact moment when their tongues met and started dancing together she definitively lost all sense of time. She just knew that at some point the kiss slowed down, sweetening, until there were just light brushes of lips.

When they stopped, Clarke had at least the satisfaction of noticing he was as wrecked and breathless as her.

Then Bellamy giggled. Actually GIGGLED. She had never seen anything so beautiful.

"What?" she asked.

His arms were still wrapped around her, loosened just enough for him see all of her. "I owed you one" he smirked.

Clarke hesitated for a second, wondering if that was the only reason why he had done it, but one look in his eyes was enough to make her doubts flee. He was staring at her as if she were the sun itself.

"Oh, so now that we're even, we're done?" she teased. "One to you and one to me, and that's it?"

Bellamy's smile widened so much that his face could have split in two. "I don't think so, Princess. Actually" he raised a brow that gave him an impish expression "I have every intention of making you lose count."

"You don't tell me."

"I do."

"Enchanting."

"Oh, don't even try." His gaze was twinkling with something she couldn't quite grasp. He dropped his head with a grin and nuzzled her ear." I DO recall you talking about a few previous dreams…"

Clarke felt her heart stop. Physically just stop in her chest.

She sank her face in the crook of his neck and solemnly vowed to never show it again.

"OH. MY. GOD."

There was not a single person in the camp who didn't hear Bellamy's booming laughter.


End file.
